Exiles One Shots
by Glaivester
Summary: Humor with Marvel's reality-hoppers. Part Two: Pre-Skrull world. Nocturne thanks God for Apocalypse.
1. Revenge on Illyana

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Revenge on Illyana

Summary: The other Exiles have a little fun with Magik...

Disclaimer: The universes and the characters these are based on all belong to Marvel.

Illyana woke up to find that she had a strange bracelet on her arm.

"What the hell..."

"Oh, yeah," said Mimic. The Exiles had had to sleep in the same room this time, as their credit cars were not working and they had to pay in cash, which they had very little of. "The Tallus moved off my arm and onto yours last night."

"It did?" asked Illyana. It didn't look like the Tallus.

"Yeah. I know it looks different on you. It didn't look the same on me as it did on Blink, either."

"Your next mission," said the Tallus.

"It's speaking!" whispered Illyana. "It says that... for wrongs to be righted in this universe... Blob needs to lose his virgi... eww."

"Count me out," said Nocturne. "I look at white guys' butts, but I don't date... or _do_... white guys. And I'm not a chubby chaser."

"Sorry," said Heather. "I'm married. I can't cheat on my hubby."

Sunfire was no more eager. "I'm Lesbian. I can't even stand the thought of being with a man in that way - especially not Fred Dukes."

"Fine! I'll do it myself!" growled Illyana. She stormed off in a huff, not noticing that Morph was gone.

Three hours later, she was back at the hotel. Disheveled, angry, and tired. "Great, I just finished the mission, and now the Tallus tells me that there's another problem with this reality. Streaking hasn't been invented yet, and apparently, it's important to this dimension that it begins."

"Well," said Mimic. "Morph is out getting groceries, but I could help."

"No, it says that _women_ streaking is what this universe lacks."

"Can't help you," said Nocturne. "I don't look normal enough for people to get the fact I am naked."

"I'm afraid that I'll be so self-conscious that I'll turn to Sasquatch and spoil the whole thing," opined Heather.

"Lesbians don't streak," explained Sunfire.

"Sure they do," growled Illyana. "I've seen some Lesbians streaking back home. At college a lot of girls did it, and I know for a fact that some of them were Lesbians."

"Well, you see, uh, it's a Japanese thing," said Sunfire. "In Japan, it is considered bad form for Lesbians to streak, and that's one tradition from my home country that no self-respecting Japanese Lesbian will break. Everyone knows that."

Nocturne nodded. "Oh, yes. If a Lesbian is caught streaking in Japan, she is so ashamed that she commits hara-kiri."

"Oh, yes," exclaimed Heather. "Everyone in Canada knows that."

"**Fine!**" hissed Illyana. "I'll do it myself."

An hour later, she appeared back in the hotel, absolutely naked and attempting to cover herself with her hands.

"What happened?" asked Mimic.

"I lost my clothes. I couldn't find them again. At least I took my sword with me. Oh, hell."

The Tallus was speaking again. "This universe also needs a sixties revival. With tie-dyes."

"Oh, hell!" screamed Illyana. She explained the next part of the mission to Mimic.

"What are tie-dyes? In my universe, no one did anything in the sixties other than living normal, _Leave it to Beaver_ lives. The other Exiles present nodded. "Yeah, never heard of anything happening unusual in the sixties."

"Fine!" hollered Illyana. She walked to the bathroom, and grabbed a towel to cover herself, and teleported out. Three hours later she was back. She had on a blue and purple tie-dye, and a "peace" pendant, and those creepy opaque circular sunglasses.

"Okay, the Tallus says that this mission is finished. Oh, &##!!!! It's giving me another one!"

She looked at the Tallus in dismay. "Now I have to start a new form of exercising that involves creative ways of breaking wind?"

Unfortunately, none of the other Exiles seemed to ever have gas problems. So again, it was up to her.

After she left, Mimic smiled. He opened the door to the next room over. Nocturne, Sunfire, and Heather walked up to be with him. In the other room was Morph. He looked up. "Hey, Mimic," he said. "What next?"

"Tell her she needs to eat four bean burritos in order to get started."

Morph shushed everyone, and then lifted the sleeve of his "shirt" and began talking into his two-way walkie-talkie wristwatch, that eh had bought the night before. Illyana was wearing one just like it. Mimic had put it on her while she slept. "Burritos are needed if this world is to survive. You must eat at least four bean burritos. You must put on a good toot-ercise show to save this world from an obesity epidemic. The Tallus has spoken."

Mimic smiled, lifting up the sleeve of his own shirt to display the _real _Tallus. "How long before she catches on?" he asked Morph.

"I don't know. But since thwarting Magneto's little power play, you claim that we have forty-eight hours down time. And I'll use as much of it as I can!"

"Oooh! Next, let's make her eat cow manure!" squealed Sunfire.

"No," said Nocturne. "Tell her that the president needs to be mooned!"

"So many ideas," sighed Morph. "So little time!"


	2. Thank you, Apocalypse!

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Thank you, Apocalypse!

Summary: Exiles. Pre-Skrull world. Nocturne thanks God for Apocalypse.

Disclaimer: The universes and the characters these are based on all belong to Marvel.

Wow. That was amazing.

Four hours. Four whole hours. Non-stop. Finally, I had to shout, enough! I feel like Geena Davis in that scene from the Fly where Jeff Goldblum was in the chair and she was... never mind.

Wow.

Well, I always thought that acrobatics or jogging was strenuous exercise. But, well, I guess that John Proudstar counts as exercise equipment now. I probably burned off ten pounds in there.

Apocalypse may have taken away his sense of taste, but he definitely gave him something to make up for it.

Wow.

Darn it, why is the water so cold? I need hot water to shower properly. Even though unlike dear old Dad, I'm not terribly fuzzy - I'm covered in much shorter fur, like a greyhound - I still feel all clumpy when I am this sweaty.

John's asleep now, I'm surprised he didn't fall asleep sooner. He seemed exhausted, but still, he was able to - to... for _four_ hours!

Wow. I wish all of my boyfriends had been enhanced by Apocalypse.

Ah, hot water. And there is nice, fruit-smelling body wash and shampoo as well. Nothing like a shower to relax you just before going to sleep.

All I can say is, thank God for Apocalypse. Sometime I'll have to tell John that the alterations he is so angry about, the things that Apocalypse did to him - well, they weren't all bad.

Four hours.

__

Four hours.


End file.
